Disclaimer: None of it's mine except this particular story. Truly wish Edmund was mine but :(

A/N: Sorry, it's been longer than I thought. Unfortunately, real life had to take priority for a week because I had exams but they're all over now and I can get back to what's really important :D Oh yes, the last bit of this chapter is taken practically word for word from the movie script, this is not supposed to be passing it off as my own work but it seemed like a natural finish to the chapter rather than me leaving them mid-conversation.

When Edmund awoke in the bright, early morning, it was to hushed, angry voices just outside of the tent. He had his back to the doors so he carefully edged himself upwards until he could turn and see the entrance, painfully dragging his back and shoulders against the rough hammock. The morning sunlight shining through the gap in the canvas momentarily blinded him and made the figures in the doorway appear as featureless shadows. His reason, not to mention his newly reinstated conscience, told him to lay back down and go back to sleep but his curiosity was telling him to keep listening. He recognised the voices of his elder brother and sister, and finally after trying in vain to decipher what was being said, Edmund cautiously swung his legs around and sat up straight. He began edging towards the front of the tent, being careful to stay in the shadows so as to avoid being seen - old habits died hard. He crept forwards until he was stood barely six feet away from his siblings and then lowered himself to the ground, watching and listening intently.

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"Susan, what am I supposed to do? If I can't forgive him and you won't let me near him to try then what am I supposed to do?!"

"Peter, for the last time, keep your voice down! Ed's sleeping in there and I want him to sleep as long as possible." Susan tried yet again to placate her brother whilst fighting the desire to raise her own voice to his level. This had been going on for some time now and she was surprised (and worried) by the fact that their brother had not been roused by their (or rather Peter's) shouting. Edmund had always been a heavy sleeper, unlike her and Peter who could be awoken by the slightest noise but even for Edmund, it was an impressive albeit currently disturbing feat to sleep through Peter's ranting.

"Su, he'll have to come out and face me eventually!" Peter continued in an admittedly quieter but no less angry voice. He sighed and glared off at nothing as she interrupted him.

"'Face you?' Exactly what are you planning on doing Peter? That he has to 'face you' for it? You talk about him facing you, and you rant at the top of your voice and look just about ready to hit something," He opened his mouth to interrupt but she gave him a look and continued on. "Yes, Peter to hit something, or someone! And you wonder why I don't want you going in there to see him?" She finished in a furious whisper, belatedly realising that she had in fact risen to volumes which surpassed his during her tirade. She glanced quickly inside of the tent into the darkness to check she had not woken their brother herself but he was thankfully still asleep, lying on his side with his back to them. "Peter," She continued in a hushed voice, "Peter, if I thought that either of you could handle seeing each other at the moment then I would let you speak to him - of course I would! But, you're too angry and he's obviously exhausted so it will just have to wait."

Peter clenched his jaw and glared at her before dropping his eyes to the ground and muttering angrily, "That isn't what you were saying when you were listening in on my private conversations though is it?" He raised his eyes to her again and continued vehemently, "It was you who wanted me to speak to him Su, you wanted me to see him. Besides, he can't hide in there forever."

She bit her lip in realisation, yes she had wanted him to speak to Edmund but not like this, not when he was so furious she wouldn't be surprised if he punched him. "I know," she admitted softly, "but Peter, he's exhausted and, and he's wounded and Peter, us being angry with him all the time was half the problem in the first place." She raised her eyes to his and confessed quietly, "I don't want to lose him again Peter." At this, Peter felt his own eyes soften and all of his previous anger fade, he was still angry but it could wait. Susan's eyes were filling as she stared pleadingly up at him and he found himself unable to hold her gaze any longer.

He glanced briefly into the darkness of the tent; he hadn't slept in there last night. He'd left Susan and Edmund to it, in the end and gone to sleep in the girls' tent with Lucy. She had been understandably wary of him at first, but he had apologised and she had forgiven him, throwing her arms around him and snuggling into him in a way that was entirely his baby sister. He had smiled and asked her about her afternoon and she had babbled on about dryads and beavers and beautiful new dresses whilst leading him over to her bed and he had almost forgotten all about their brother. Almost. That was until she turned her head up to look at him from where she was now pillowed on top of him, her head resting over his heart and asked: "Peter? Do you really think he didn't miss us?"

"I don't know Lu." And he didn't. It had occurred to him in that moment, lying on a make-shift bed with his youngest sister draped over the top of him that maybe the reason he was so angry was that he could barely recognise their brother any more. Yes, Susan had been right that he would forgive their brother anything. But that wasn't hisbrother, it wasn't the brother he had shared a room and sometimes even a bed with for most of his life. It wasn't the brother that he had once tried to teach to play Chess, who had picked it up in less than half an hour and not wanted to tell him what Susan had told him which was that Edmund already knew how to play thank you very much because she had taught him over a year ago. Edmund had changed he realised; and he hadn't noticed. So now he was left with someone who was his brother but wasn't. Someone who was a complete stranger but in his brother's body. And the fact was, that it was easier to hate a stranger for betraying them like this than it was to try to understand and forgive their brother for doing it. And it hurt a lot less that way too.

"Peter?"

He was startled out of his musings by Susan's soft voice. She was looking at him, her brows wrinkled in concern. He cleared his throat. "Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine Su." He blinked, and was shocked to feel two small droplets trace their way down his face. He hadn't realised he was crying.

Susan watched him for a moment longer before murmuring "Well, I'm glad you've calmed down a little" She sighed and glanced down then said quietly "I suppose we'd better wake him up. He must be starving and Lucy will be waiting."

"Mmm. Suppose so." Peter directed his gaze back into the tent. His look was this time met by two large dark eyes staring up at him from where their owner was sat crouched on the floor. He felt his rage return with a vengeance. Dashing the last remaining tears from his eyes and casting one last furious look at both his brother and sister, he turned on his heel and stormed away leaving Susan utterly bewildered. She called after him. "I'll see you at breakfast!" Was the distant response snarled over his shoulder. Well. She knew dismissal when she heard it.

Turning into the tent she was surprised to find Edmund already up and waiting for her, chewing nervously on his thumbnail again. That and one look at his face told her all she needed to know. She couldn't help but feel a little hurt that Edmund didn't trust her enough to let her talk to Peter about him without listening in on it all.

Taking a deep breath, she strode past Edmund and over to the bed that they had ended up sharing the night before. Saying as she passed him, "Don't chew your nails Ed.", it was more habit than annoyance that made her say it. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him watching her strip the bed down and replace the blankets, turning them down as she did so. She also noticed that his thumb was still firmly in place in his mouth. He hadn't always chewed his nails. It had started when he was about three, she supposed. They had been visiting their grandmother and their mother's youngest brother in Brent Cross, Edmund had had a 'cuddle' then. It was an old cot blanket belonging to Peter and then to her and finally to Ed, it had been so worn out by Edmund's time that their mother thrown it in the bin but it had been mysteriously rescued and reappeared in Edmund's cot the same day and he had had carried it with him everywhere after that. There was a fabric hook on one corner for hanging it up, and Peter had taught Ed to put his chubby little thumb through the hook so that he didn't drop it, Ed used to suck his thumb then.

She smiled fondly at the memory, watching Edmund half-heartedly tug the corners of the blanket down so that it covered the corners of the bed, thumb still in place and her smile grew. So. Off they had gone to see their Grandmother, each of them in their best clothes, hair painfully neat and pink-skinned from all the scrubbing their mother had inflicted on them that morning. Grandma had been pleased to see them, commenting on how they'd all grown and such like. She, Peter and Edmund had been happily playing on the rug in front of the fire and of course Edmund had his blanket in hand when their Uncle Christopher (he was only eighteen, the baby of the family if she remembered correctly) had walked in and immediately said: "Bit old for a blanket isn't he?" Nodding at Edmund. She and Peter had scowled up at him and their parents had both politely replied that no, they didn't think he was too old just yet. And then later, after dinner while the adults had been washing up and they were back in the front room, Edmund contentedly sucking on the corner of his blanket and Uncle Frank came in again. "He is too old for a blanket." She remembered him saying, as if to himself. And he had sauntered up to Ed, snatched the blanket out of his hands and before she or Peter could even shout he had thrown it into the fire. It caught like dry wood and went up in a cloud of foul smelling smoke. She didn't remember an awful lot after that; she supposed they had been sent out while their grandmother and mother 'talked' to their Uncle, she couldn't remember ever having thought someone deserved a smack more than her Uncle that day. She remembered sitting on the stairs with their father, trying to calm down a hysterical Edmund and Lucy. Peter was crying too though she couldn't recall why, she did recall him marching up to their uncle and kicking him in the shin though. She sighed, Peter was Edmund's and her hero that day. Edmund had sucked his thumb after that and then after starting school he had progressed to chewing his nails and had done ever since. It was endearing really, though of course she outwardly disapproved it was one of the only traits of Edmund that had not changed as he had over the past couple of years. And last night she had glimpsed the person he used to be before boarding school and before the war, it was that and the constant nail-biting that was leading her to believe that their brother was not so far lost as she and Peter had thought.

He was still watching her, she realised. Standing awkwardly with one hand in his pocket and the other of course still at his mouth, he kept glancing at the open doorway of the tent and then back at her. She released a startled "Oh!" realising belatedly that he was waiting for her to go for breakfast with him. Standing quickly, she smiled and held out a hand to him which he took in his slightly smaller, slightly sweaty one.

He was trembling she realised as they both ducked out of the tent and he kept casting nervous glances around the camp. As they passed, many of the animals gave stiff, short bows which were evidently more for show than anything else and she was reminded of something their mother used to say about both of her brothers: "Their eyes say it all." And these animals' eyes certainly did, she felt that they could not have a more hostile look in their eyes at that moment if they had been looking at the White Witch herself. A large cat, a Tom, hissed violently at Edmund as they passed and she frowned angrily but did not stop, stopping would give them the chance to say something to him she thought. The further they got into the main camp, the more she could feel Edmund pressing himself up against her and tightening his grip on her hand, she felt sorry for him. She wished she could take him back to the tent and take breakfast in there and if Peter or Lucy wanted to see either of them then they could jolly well visit them there! But that wouldn't do of course; because if she did that then it would seem as though she were ashamed of Edmund which she could honestly say for the first time in a long time, she wasn't. She couldn't explain why though, maybe it was because for the first time in a long time, he actually felt like her brother again.

Even so, she couldn't remember ever having been so pleased to see Peter scowling. It wasn't at her and it wasn't at Edmund and it felt wonderful, because it meant that whether Peter had forgiven him or not, he wasn't going to stand for anyone to bully or judge Edmund. What gave them the right to anyway? It was all very well for them not to go over to Her side, they knew exactly the kind of things She did but her brother didn't know! And by the time he did know, it was too late and besides some of them had gone over to Her anyway so why should they be able to despise Edmund for it? It was just hip - Hypocritical. That was what it was, hypocritical and she smiled at Lucy and Peter, pleased with herself for remembering the word. Peter would probably have made fun of her for thinking about semantics and long words at a time like this but he had his distractions and she had hers. Besides, she liked to widen her vocabulary.

As they drew near their siblings and Peter's scowl was eventually fixed on Edmund however, she began to concentrate more on the matter at hand. Namely: keeping her brothers near enough to each other that they could talk to each other if they wished to but not so near that Peter could get his hands on Ed therefore hopefully avoiding an all out scrap; because quite apart from the upset it would cause all four of them, it wouldn't do to as their mother would put it: "To wash their dirty laundry in public." Everyone here already openly distrusted Edmund, the last thing they needed was to show that Peter didn't trust or even like him either. So, determinedly leading Edmund up to their brother and sister she smiled at Lucy and took a seat on the ground next to where Peter was stood. It did not go unnoticed to either of her brothers that in doing so she had left the only other open seat between her and Lucy, meaning that Edmund was sat firmly in between his sisters and away from Peter. Despite this, Peter managed to somehow get in the way of his brother, their shoulders banging painfully against each other although neither of them said anything about it.

Edmund lowered himself to the ground, clumsily overbalancing at the last minute and falling onto his back. Lucy and Susan both reached out their hands to pull him back up and out of the corner of her eye Susan thought she might even have seen Peter make a move as if to catch him as he fell. Edmund hissed in pain and clenched his eyes shut as he hit the ground, opening them slowly and glancing fearfully at Susan who smiled sympathetically and helped to pull him into a sitting position. Breakfast passed slowly but peacefully for the Pevensies. It seemed that watching Edmund pick at his food warily before just sitting back and watching his siblings eat had even concerned Peter. Lucy was blissfully oblivious to this however and chatted cheerily about the many animals she had already conversed with that morning, telling them how kind they all were etc. Susan nodded and smiled at the appropriate places whilst not really listening while their brothers seem to phase her out altogether.

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"Eat something, Ed." Peter was surprised to hear the soft instruction leave his mouth, it seemed to have bypassed his brain, he certainly hadn't thought about saying it. He shifted uneasily as both his brother and eldest sister turned their faces to stare at him, their eyes shining in hope. He almost laughed when Edmund, typically blunt said:

"What?"

"You should eat something." At the still startled look he received he added quickly, "Susan's worried about you not having eaten." He felt a slight pang of guilt as their faces fell, but also a little proud as his brother mechanically reached out and cautiously took a piece of toast off the stack placed between them all. By this time, even Lucy was watching although both Peter and Susan felt sure she wasn't really aware of why they were all watching him so intently. Edmund reluctantly raised the bread to his mouth and took the smallest of small bites before glancing around at them all as if to make sure that they had all seen. After that however, hunger seemed to kick in and he demolished the entire stack in a matter of minutes eliciting an amused quip from Lucy that:

"Narnia isn't going to run out of toast Ed."

Finally finding the opportunity to raise the subject he had been meaning to, Peter commented quietly: "I'm sure they'll pack some up for the journey."

"We're leaving?" Susan voiced what was on the tip of their younger brother and sister's tongues.

"You are." Seeing them all open their mouths to protest, Peter continued on quickly, "I promised I'd keep you three safe but there's no reason I can't stay here and help."

"But they need us! All four of us!" Cried Lucy tearfully.

"Lucy, it's too dangerous! You almost drowned, Edmund was almost killed!!" Both Susan and Edmund found themselves feeling a sort of perverse pleasure at hearing the genuine fear in their brother's voice when saying the last part of his speech. Looking down thoughtfully, Edmund was shocked to hear his next statement, it seemed to him to be almost the complete opposite of what he truly wanted to say.

"Which is why have to stay." As he explained how he had helped the White Witch, he felt with sickening realisation that he actually agreed with what he was saying. He wanted to stay here. He wanted to make things better for the people of Narnia even if it killed him. As he finished his short speech he raised his gaze to look first at Lucy, who was holding his hand tightly in hers, then at Susan who seemed to be figuring something out in her head then sighing in resignation and finally, he daringly raised his eyes to Peter who was staring at him in horror and as if he'd never seen him before. Edmund felt a flicker of fear at this, then Peter nodded his head jerkily and glanced at him again. This time, though Edmund barely dared to hope, Peter's eyes seemed to be filled with something other than horror. What was that? It had been so long that Edmund barely recognised the look in his brother's eyes, but then suddenly it seemed to click as if someone had turned a switch in his head. It was Pride. And it was because of him. They held each other's gaze for a long while and suddenly Peter broke it. Susan stood abruptly and Peter asked worriedly:

"Where are you going?"

Giving a wicked grin she replied "To get in some practice." She gave Edmund one last look and, satisfied that they were not going to kill each other in her absence she turned and strode away with Lucy trailing at her heels.

Left alone together, the two boys turned once more to look at one another. There was an uneasy silence. "So..." Peter began awkwardly and taking a deep breath before he continued. "Practice?" He suggested.